Dance with the Moon, Reach for the Sun
by Ramzes
Summary: The story of Dragonstone's last defender. Warning: heavy spoilers for The Princess and the Queen.
1. Chapter 1

_A. N. This is the first in a series of drabbles I might do for Baela Targaryen. I was quite fascinated with her as soon as I read The Princess and the Queen, so here I am: making both a canon story and an AU one for the same period. I wonder what would become of them. I hope I'll be able to keep them both up!_

**Dance with the Moon, Reach for the Sun**

Travelling with Father was always something she took as a prize. Rhaena loved sitting quietly and combing her dolls' hair but when Father suggested that he took Baela for a flight with him, she jumped up and down and bolted for the door immediately to look entranced as he saddled Caraxes.

"May I help you?" she asked eagerly and Prince Daemon laughed, lifting her up, so she could arrange the big saddle. She was very pleased with herself. How had Father managed to deal with Caraxes without her help before?

The cold wind against her face was something she always relished. She squirmed a little to get her little arms out of her father's firm grasp and took the hat off her hair, so the wind could whip it just as she liked. Flying was her most favourite thing in the world and she was quite disgruntled each time they had to stop so Father could confer with those big men in yellow cloaks.

That was the little Baela could remember from the time before her mother died. It must have been after one of those rides when they descended and she was confronted by the sight of another dragon, as pale as twilight. She gasped with delight; when she looked at the other side, she saw a third dragon, red as flame.

Father, though, was not as happy. He murmured something under his breath and took himself and Baela down; when she raised her hands up waiting for him to lift her so she could unsaddle Caraxes, he snapped, "Not now, Baela" in such a tone that she huddled miserably a few steps away as he hurriedly finished taking Caraxes' gear off.

Once he was ready, he grabbed Baela and headed for the inside of the Red Keep where their chambers were. In a blue hallway, he suddenly stopped.

Years later, Baela could not remember her uncle Laenor's face but somehow, his voice she never forgot. The lower tone. The slight shaking. "Your child was not willing to be born, Daemon," he proclaimed darkly. "If you hurry up, you can still manage to say goodbye to her."

Baela went to another pair of arms. Now, it was her grandmother holding her.

That was the only time Baela saw The Queen Who Never Was weep.

* * *

"We're here," Father said. "This is your home."

The little girls looked at each other. Their home? There weren't three high hills or so many houses. A single peak rose above a small thing called island where a crowd had gathered to meet them. Baela was used to the cheering and greeting they got, especially when they were with Father on Caraxes, as they were now… but this crowd was so small. It wasn't like home at all.

"Dragons!" Rhaena squealed in delight and Baela looked around. "No, no," Rhaena insisted and caught her sister's hand to point downward. "There!"

Baela looked and gasped. The castle in front of them and down – it was made of dragons! Dragon towers, dragon gargoyles, and gates big enough to let a dragon through.

Somewhere from the distance, a true dragon roared. Caraxes roared back, the sound rumbling through his mighty body and felt by the riders like a rippling wave.

The girls started squirming, unable to contain their excitement to reach the ground. Prince Daemon laughed and squeezed them more tightly, although their straps would not let them slide anyway.

And then, they were down, looking curiously around. Baela's eyes finally found a woman with fair braided hair with rubies strung in it. Her gown in red and silver swept the ground as she nodded at Father. "My lord husband, I welcome you home."

Father stepped ceremoniously forward and kissed her hand. "My lady, I am happy to be reunited with you."

After a few more words, the woman came near the girls. Rhaena blushed and looked down. Baela, on the contrary, looked up in a pair of purple eyes just like her own. "Ah, what a lovely hair you have," the woman said.

Now, Baela looked down. Everyone talked about her hair and she had grown tired of it.

The woman sighed. "I am sorry," she said. "I don't know how to behave around girls, I suppose. I only have boys. Three of them. My Luke is a year older than you and Joffrey is a year younger but I suppose in time you could become friends if…"

Baela's little face twisted in a scowl. _Boys._ Baela did not like boys. Aemond was a boy and he was _bad_. Daeron was a boy, too, but he rarely had time for her.

"No boys," Rhaena murmured.

"Ah," their father said. "So you can be brave when you need, my sweet? It's good to see."

The woman laughed. "She's a dragon, my lord. A sweet one but a dragon nonetheless."

"Then," Prince Daemon said. "I might have taken her to the best place possible. Dragonstone."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to everyone who left a review._

_Dance with the Moon, Reach for the Sun_

Chapter 2

In the beginning, Baela had been afraid of the thunderstorms that shook her new home ever so often but with time, she had come to love them. She could stay put for hours, watching fascinated as the lightnings wove their embroidery in the sky and sea – a much beautiful embroidery than anything Rhaenyra or their septa could sew. She would gladly open her window to see and hear better but the air of expectation and concern all over the castle kept her glued to her father's side in the antechamber.

"Rhaenyra will have a babe," Rhaena announced, looking from her sister to her father. "She's giving birth to it right now."

"I know," Prince Daemon said.

"Is the babe going to like me, Father?" she asked.

"I am sure it will like you, Rhaena."

"And if I don't like the babe, Father, can we send him back?" she asked again.

"No, my sweet, but you'll like the babe, I promise."

"Babes," Jace proclaimed and raised his wooden sword. "Babes are small and stupid."

"_You_ are stupid," Luke cried out and tried to grab his brother's sword. He was very jealous because he had to wait until his nameday to receive a sword of his own and start training.

Jace brandished the sword and Daemon went over and took it from the boy's hand. "Can't you sit still?" he asked, giving both boys a very stern look. "Just for a moment?"

Everyone fell silent and Baela could hear the storm still raging outside. They had been not allowed to go out and play for days because of the torrential rains and lightnings that made the tower dragons look alive and real dragons bellow in rage and defiance at something claiming to be stronger than them. Beneath it, though, the sea roared and smelled of salt, singing a different lullaby than the one it usually did. Baela loved this new song, too. She loved falling asleep to it and going far, far away, being carried gently by the green sea with her own dragon who was as great and wonderful as Caraxes and as gentle as Syrax. When she woke up, her egg was sometimes warm.

Prince Daemon waved at Septa Aniessa who hovered nearby. "Keep an eye over them," he said. "I don't care whether they fight. I just want to find them all in one piece when I am back."

The young septa nodded. "Yes, Your Grace," she said and gave the boys a stern look. "Prince Jacaerys, you can sit over there and read the book you have to finish. Prince Lucarys, you can come over here. Lady Baela, you too. Do you want me to tell you the story of Daenys the Dreamer?"

Scowling, the children did what they were told to. They did not have much in common – boys and girls had different occupations – but a healthy respect of the soft-spoken, mouse-haired woman was something all five of them felt. Her orders were something no one disputed.

Septa Aniessa had just reached the part where the other dragonlords laughed at the Exile when the door to the birthing chamber opened and the princess' parting words could be heard quite clearly, "Go away, Daemon. Just stay outside and don't ask me stupid questions like, _Are you in pain?_ Of course I am!"

"Is Rhaenyra angry?" Rhaena asked, confused.

"She's fine," Septa Aniessa answered. "If she has the strength to lash out like this, she'll be fine."

A little later, just when the first unfurling of dawn chased away the storm that had been plaguing them for so long, Rhaenyra gave a last shriek, long and feral, and when it melted into a cry of release, a high thin cry could be heard through it.

Prince Aegon had been born.

He turned out to be quite confusing, though.

"Are you sure he's a boy?" Baela askes suspiciously. She knew what boys looked like and this was no boy at all.

Rhaenyra laughed and assured her that yes, Aegon was a boy and he'd grow up as big as his brothers in a few years.

"Few years?" Baela asked, disappointed. "So long? What is he going to do until then?"

Rhaena, on the other hand, stared at the newborn fascinated. "He's so tiny, Father!" she exclaimed. "I like him!"

The babe opened his eyes and stared straight at her. She smiled at him, delighted. "He liked me, too!" she cried out.

"When he starts crying, you won't think so," Jace murmured. "Joff was just as small but noisier."

"Was not!" Joff cried out just before Prince Daemon shooed all of them out so Rhaenyra could have a little rest with her newborn.

* * *

The stableboys who cleaned the outer parts of the Red Keep's dragonpit looked in horror when the little girl came near, immaculately dressed in blue velvet and with a blue ribbon in her golden-silver hair.

"Princess!" one of them stuttered, the broom in his hands clattering down the pavement. "You should not be here!"

"I am not a princess," Baela said. Whenever someone addressed her as such, she always looked around, expecting to see Rhaenyra. "And I should be here."

"It's too dangerous, my lady," one of the boys insisted. "No one is allowed to go nearer."

Baela smiled and shook her head. "I am not anyone," she said and held her head high with all her six-year-old pride. "I am the blood of the dragon. It isn't dangerous to _me_."

They started to argue further but she simply sidestepped them and entered the huge echoing bowels of the dragonpit.

The smell of fire, blood and something other, something wild and untamed, something so very dragon-ish would be enough to keep the servants at bay even without their orders but to Baela, it was as sweet as perfume. She remembered where Caraxes' stall was from flying with Father the day before and she sat down on the floor beside him.

"You're so beautiful," she said, softly. "You're so magnificent, Caraxes. Give me your warmth, will you? Help my egg hatch."

She took the egg out of the silk bag she carried. It was growing rapidly and it was now almost as long as her fore-arm, green streaked by tender pearly lines. It had started getting warmer, too. Maybe Caraxes' warmth would help it hatch sooner? She reached out with the egg in her outstretched hands and felt the heat of the dragon scales like a caress.

"What are you doing here?" a boy's voice asked all of a sudden and she stiffened immediately. Caraxes raised his head and roared.

Baela rose and laid the egg on the floor before turning to meet Aemond's stare defiantly. "What are _you_ doing here?" she asked. "This is Caraxes' stall."

He smirked. "This is my father's castle, don't you know it? I can go wherever I want."

Baela smiled. "Not here," she said. "Caraxes doesn't like you."

Indeed, the dragon that had been almost indifferent to the girl's presence now rumbled and roared, hitting his forelegs against the floor.

Aemond took a prudent step back. His eyes fell on the green egg. "What were you doing?" he mocked. "Trying to make him hatch it for you?"

Since that was exactly what Baela had been doing, she blushed.

He made a step in the direction of the egg. He had seen twelve namedays and was big for his age, towering two full heads over Baela who was small for her years.

Without hesitation, she stood in his way. "Get out," she said as firmly as she could. _You should never let your fear show_, her father often repeated to her, Rhaena, and the boys_. It doesn't matter whether you're afraid or not. You should always look confident, and people will think you are._ "This is Caraxes' stall and you really, really don't want for my lord father to find you here."

"Only if you give me the egg," he drawled.

"Go and find one of your own," Baela snapped, still barring his way. At her side, Caraxes roared again, rattling his chains.

He smirked. "I don't need an egg, you silly girl. I'll bond an old dragon."

"When?" she shot back. "When you get as old as His Grace?"

His face darkened and Baela realized that she had hit a nerve.

She should have stopped at that but as her septa bitterly complained, she was as fearless as her father.

"Are you sure you'll be able to bond a dragon then?" she challenged. "You haven't even flown yet. You're just envious because I've flown Caraxes and…"

His face darkened; only her swiftness saved her from having her jaw smashed by his fist.

The battle had started; with a war cry, Baela flew at him, clawing at his face; he yelled and pushed her back. She landed hard on the floor and felt a pain burning all the way up her back; a moment later, though, she was back in place, ready for a charge.

"Are you mad?" Aemond asked with disbelief. "I can crush you, you fool."

"Come on," she invited. "Try."

Her neck hurt from tilting her head back so she could look at him in the eye. Next to them, Caraxes roared and strained against his chains.

This time, she did not escape the crushing blow to her cheekbone; instinctively, she grabbed the hand that had delivered it and bit so hard that she felt one of her teeth falling out.

Aemond yanked his hand and it went to the dagger at his belt.

"Leave her," a new voice rang out.

Baela and Aemond looked up, equally surprised to see Jace there, his pale face flushed with fury.

"Don't you meddle, Strong," Aemond drawled, flashing his blade.

Jace did not flinch. "I will meddle," he said firmly. "You're very brave against little girls, I see. Try me."

"Gladly," Aemond agreed and flashed his knife once again. "Come on, little boy."

Jace quickly looked around and grabbed a besom standing near the door.

Baela lunged for a bucket of water and raised it up, ready to splash the content in Aemond's face.

Aemond looked at her, his surprise clearly written on her face.

Jace laughed. "This isn't Helaena here, Aemond," he said. "You have come to the wrong shop."

For a moment, Aemond stood undecided, calculating his chances. He was the only one possessed of a blade but with his bunch of branches Jacaerys could keep him at bay. And Baela could splash the content of the bucket in his face and make him lose his balance for a moment – just enough for the young Strong to come down on him and grab the dagger. Only at a few steps away from them, Caraxes was roaring and trying to get free. His chains rankled louder and louder.

Jace's eyes never left his uncle's face. "Baela," he said calmly. "Take the egg."

She did so without objections and handed the bag to him before taking the bucket back. Jacaerys took her by the hand and they left the dragonpit backwards, their eyes trained on Aemond. Once they were out, Baela left the bucked next to the door. Jace threw the besom aside.

They looked at each other and laughed.

"Come on," Jace said. "The maester should have a look at your face."

"No," she mumbled.

Jace nodded. He didn't like maesters and treatments either.

"Please," Baela said. "Don't tell Father or Rhaenyra."

"They won't know it from me," he promised.

So they headed for their part of the Red Keep under the bright sun in silence that neither minded.

"He was right, though," Jace suddenly said. "You are not behaving like a girl. You were rather… scary"

But it was said with a smile and not like a reproach at all. Not like when Septa Aniessa said it. And at last, Baela felt that Jacaerys was her friend.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed and sorry to be so slow with the update._

**Dance with the Moon, Reach for the Sun**

Chapter 3

"Go to bed. We'll summon you as soon as things start moving along."

Baela looked at her stepmother and shook her head, her eyes fixed on the swirly pearly green expanse of the egg. For the last few days, it had started growing steadily warmer and harder to the touch. It had also started cracking – at least, her father and Rhaenyra claimed that it was cracking, although all Baela saw were fine white ripples into the silky surface of the egg. The castle dragons were more fidgety, creating a veritable thunderstorm all of their own with their roars and tail thumping. The servants whispered that they were nervous but the children recognized their behavior for what it was – anticipation. Baela remembered the night Vermax had come out of the shell – the dragons had been practically dancing with joy. Setting the stables afire had been an accident, not a battle mood. It was just that their joy was quite rough for most people's liking, just like the older boys' wild delights were often enough to scare little Viserys into silence. To the little pest's credit, Baela had to admit that he almost never cried and never sought protection against his brothers' idea of expressing love. Of course, Rhaena was never far away from the little boys' side, scolding Jace and the others for being such _boys_.

"Go to bed already…"

Baela raised her chin defiantly. "I'm staying," she declared, although her eyes were burning for sleep and she'd nod off each time she leaned her back against the stable wall.

All of a sudden, Rhaenyra smiled. "Well, I suppose a few sleepless nights won't kill you. I remember that after Syrax hatched, I slept for two nights and a day, I've been awake for so long."

She turned around and took Aegon and Viserys' by the hands. "Come on," she said. "We're leaving. I'll come back as soon as I am over," she added and Baela nodded, knowing that Rhaenyra was busy with the everyday management of Dragonstone. How anyone could think today was a day like any other was beyond Baela…

It was already a bright day when something changed so suddenly that Baela jerked wide awake. She needed a moment until she realized what it was: the silence. All the dragons in the stable had fell silent after all their roaring and tail-thumping, and straining against their chains. They were waiting for something.

"Look," Luke whispered, awe in his voice. Rhaena and the boys had spread in a semi-circle around the egg, not too close because the heat radiating off it. While Baela had napped, Aegon and Viserys had come back, with Viserys holding to Rhaena's hand. Baela tried to rise but fell back on her bottom, having underestimated the kinks and cramps of her doze. Joff came near and held out a hand; with a small grunt of effort, the girl pushed herself upright, almost knocking Joff off his feet in the process, and lurched for the egg, held out a hand, drew it back as the heat licked it.

And then, the crack came – the song of the fishermen beneath the castle of Dragonstone, the fury of a thousand thunderstorms, the lullaby of the sea, the sweetest sound ever. The egg disintegrated into a shower of pale green waves and pearly stars. Little Aegon looked up and caught one of the radiances on his palm, awe on his face.

The tiny green thing crouching where the egg had been only a moment ago blinked and looked around with bright pearl eyes. Then, her wet graceful neck trembled and she sneezed softly, like a newborn kitten. Silently, Baela held out a hand and the dragon inclined her head. Those shiny eyes traveled up Baela's hand, arm, and neck and finally came to rest at the girl's face, studying the first living thing the dragon met out of the shell.

Baela looked into those huge pearls and felt instantly smitten. The whole body of the dragonet was green, its tiny crest and horns clear as tears. Baela's own eyes swam, she reached out further and touched the delicate wings, scared of breaking them.

They were hot, hotter than the flames breathing in her face when she sat closest to the hearth. But she didn't pull back. Her hand went slowly down the spine, the other wing, the graceful head. Then, she slowly drew back.

Rhaena whose dragonet had died a few hours after hatching hugged her and murmured with joy and envy, "Oh how lucky you are today!"

* * *

Moondancer's eyes slowly went up to the unnatural white curtain falling from the sky in the huge stable yard. She looked bewildered. A slender claw slowly reached out to grab this new substance, only to have it flow between the shining talons as soon as she took it. The young she-dragon looked at her empty claw, utterly puzzled. There had been strange things happening around here for a while. Only the day before, she had found another she-dragon, as big as her but with no smell at all, who dwelled in the water trough. When she had advanced on her, though, warmer with wariness, and reached in the water, this other dragon had just rippled away. And now this vast white expanse that was everywhere but only until she reached for it. Her neck twitched curiously.

Baela could not contain her laughter. Her dragon was a bit like Aegon and Viserys when they were little – she needed to be taught _anything_. Her father had claimed that since Moondancer was still so young and small, she could be let out of her chains when he was there to intervene if necessary… and provided that there was no servants around. Usually, they all vanished into thin air the moment Prince Daemon took Moondancer out in the yard.

Now he looked from his daughter to her dragon, amused. "She isn't very clever, is she?" he asked.

Baela's eyes went dark. "She is! She's the cleverest dragon ever born!" she claimed with absolute certainty until she saw the spark in her father's eye that showed Daemon only joked.

"I think she's very beautiful," Rhaena said, to appease both of them. "So elegant of movement."

Noticing the sad envy in her voice, Daemon gave her a long look. "Very soon, you'll have an egg of your own, sweet dragon," he promised. "And your hatchling will be just as beautiful, I assure you."

All of a sudden, Moondancer gave a low roar and spread her wings, taking off a little. Then, she landed again and sniffed at the air a few moments before Rhaenyra's three sons appeared on their horses, clearly over with their morning practice. Their faces were quite black with dust and streaked with sweat. Moondancer howled in displeasure. Another strange object! Three of them! Four-legged and not smelling like humans. She was quite overwhelmed.

"Should I take her inside, Father?" Baela asked.

"No," he said. "Let her start getting used to different animals. Today is as good a time as any."

The small she-dragon's anxiety grew. She was turning her head this way and that, trying to follow the movements of all three horses. Rhaena rose from the bench. "You aren't being nice," she scolded as she joined her sister in her attempts to soothe Moondancer. "You're doing it on purpose."

"It isn't this hard," Jace said. "She doesn't look very smart."

He had gone too far. Eyes ablaze, Baela headed across the yard at him. He laughed. "Are you going to try and take me down from the saddle?" he teased.

"I might," Baela said darkly.

Their little battle of looks was interrupted by Rhaena's gasp as she hurried to stand between them. Behind, Prince Daemon stayed where he was, not intending to interrupt what looked like a good entertainment to him.

"You'd better sit down, girls," Jace said. "You look a little pale and for delicate creatures like you…"

Now, he had managed to infuriate even Rhaena which, of course, had been his goal all along. She put her hands on her hips and glared. "Jacaerys Velaryon," she said with the most terrible of all her terrible voices. "I forbid you and your stupid brothers to get this dragon confused anymore."

"Pardon?" Luke said from his own saddle. "You forbid us? Who are you, our mother or the King?"

She didn't flinch. "Consider yourselves warned."

Luke and Jace looked at each other and seemed to reach an understanding. Before the girls could have the time to think what this understanding might be, the boys turned the horses at them in full gallop. "How about eating some dust?" Jace called out.

Rhaena screamed and in the last moment dropped to her knees. Baela stood where she was. A moment later, the boys reached them: Luke's horse leapt over Rhaena who was still on the ground, Jace's pale grey animal flew over Baela. She saw the horse's head, his chest and forelegs. Her hands instinctively went above her head to shield it from the impact. She felt it but she managed to stay upright even when the world swirled.

"What's going on here!"

"Oh-oh," Rhaena muttered and jumped to her feet quickly, dusting her gown off, trying to pretend that nothing at all had happened. Baela didn't say a thing, busy not to sway.

"What did you think you were doing!" Rhaenyra burst out. "Dismount this moment and come here. How could you even think of doing such a thing? You could have hurt them very badly!"

Baela knew three boys who probably wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for the next week or so. Tough luck that Rhaenyra had witnessed their antics. Baela's father showed more understanding to rough games than his wife did. Rhaenyra was a stern disciplinarian and as angry as Baela was at the boys, she wouldn't give them to their mother. She would think of a way to retaliate all by herself.

She headed back for Moondancer, taking great care to hold her right arm out of sight. No one should see that it had been hurt and was probably turning blue in her sleeve.

As she led Moondancer back to the stable, she looked back to where Rhaenyra and the boys were just leaving, she still furious, they dragging their feet but not too much, as not to anger her further. Jace met Baela's eye for a moment, looked at her arm and then her eyes again. A small smile of gratitude played about his mouth.

Baela smiled back.


End file.
